


Sweet Loretta Martin

by Crazythatcounts



Category: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazythatcounts/pseuds/Crazythatcounts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Hanna isn't all what she seems to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Loretta Martin

When he opened the door, he wasn't sure why he was surprised. The name on the card said Hanna Falk Cross, which was most certainly a girl's name. And yet, when the young lady appeared at the door, the zombie found himself a little thrown off.

It wasn't that he was facing a woman. He probably would have been less surprised facing a man, considering he was the living dead and nothing seemed really the same even though he knew he knew this city somewhere, he had to, but he couldn't remember what was different. He couldn't point out why he mind labeled things as different because this was all new all over again to him.

So when he was slightly surprised by the woman at the door, he sort of rolled with it, because there were a lot of things he thought that he didn't know why he thought them; that was the gist of being undead with a very thorough case of memory loss.

"Hello?" The young woman's voice was almost too deep for a girl that short, but too high to be any kind of man, and the zombie gently mused on why he had even registered this thought. Something did seem a little off about the woman, but a lot of things seemed off when you'd spent a good long while six feet under.

"Are you Hanna Falk Cross?" The zombie handed the card forward, but those bright blue eyes were more concerned with the fact that, well, the zombie was a zombie.

"Ohmygod, you're dead! Holy shit, you're _really_ dead! Wait, wait, why are you _here_ if you're dead? I mean, I don't think I can do much for you, sir, you know, since I don't even know – and wait, hold on, how did you even get my card?" The young woman was apparently very excitable, yammering on in a near breathless roll of words as she ushered the zombie in and shit the door. "I mean, I hand those out occasionally to people but no one really keeps them, and oh, don't worry about my neighbor, she's a nice old woman if a little creepy, but _anyway_ , let me get back to what brings you here to me?"

"I don't really know. I just haven't felt like wandering much anymore." The zombie shrugged, taking in the room. Very stark, sparse, with a single grungy mattress, a table, and a little room with a kitchen. Nothing seemed terribly… girly. The zombie couldn't remember exactly what any girly room he'd seen before looked like, but it just felt too bare for a girl's room, especially considering Hanna herself. A patched white sweater over a pink collared shirt, knee length, patched white skirt with pink trim, pink tights and black and white vans made up the very girly looking ensemble. Well, the zombie considered the skirt was the girly part of it, until he noted the pink and white Pokémon barrettes in Hanna's bright shock of red hair. Even then, Hanna could've put on pants and passed for a boy, yet she extruded something very girly while wearing that skirt. But, the zombie had other things to ask, and set the musing aside for later. "Miss Cross, are you hiring?"

"You've come to the right place, I think, sir, I know I probably don't look like I have enough room for a roommate but-buh-wait, hiring?" Hanna, who had been shuffling about while she talked, picking up shirts and stockings and various cards from the floor - piling the cards on a tiny card table that functioned as a dining table as well, and piling the shirts in a tattered mesh hamper - suddenly looked up like she'd shocked by something. Her face broke into the widest grin she could manage. "Fuck, YES! Yes, _ohwow_ , yes I'm hiring!"

The zombie mused that it sounded a little odd hearing her say fuck. He didn't know why. He didn't muse for long on the thoughts that didn't seem to make any sense yet seemed very out of place because the whirlwind of energy that called herself Hanna was bustling by him again, still talking.

"Haha, wow, this is going to be so exciting, having a partner, like having a battle buddy or like you're the Robin to my Batman, or maybe it's the other way around 'cause I don't think I'd be able to pull off the bat suit very well but manohman you'd look so awesome with the Batman mask on and those hair-thingies can fit in the bat ears!"

While Hanna was going on and on, there was a knock at the door. The zombie went to answer it, not realizing that answering that door would throw their whole nights into chaos.

\---  
The man who had arrived was named Conrad Achenleck. He had a bit of a vampire bat problem – or, an angry kitten problem, as Hanna had originally guessed, which only made the generally irate Conrad more irate – so the trio had gone to investigate. The zombie had mused that the night was cool and quiet, calm and even inviting. It hadn't ever seemed this inviting before, but he also mused that could just be Hanna. Hanna seemed to make the very air around her spark with inviting warmth, even in the cool night. They had crossed to Conrad's apartment in a short time, and Conrad had then introduced them to his vampire bat, who was female and very sassy.

What had gone down after that was a lot more violent than planned. Hanna agreed with the bat to break her curse, and upon being freed, the bat had done a number on both the zombie and Conrad, before draining the living man of all his blood. She had also done more than a number on Hanna, which was why the three of them were running pell-mell to a back door that Hanna had instructed them to with her last conscious breathes.

Yes, there were three. Before Hanna had managed to collapse from her own blood loss, she had brought Conrad back to life by, well, doing the only thing she could do and making him a vampire. Though the gesture was appreciated, Conrad was practically livid at the investigator that she had gotten him killed and then cursed him with his vampire status. Well, he didn't rationally believe he was a vampire, but he was still very livid. The zombie briefly realized that this was probably the man's natural state as a person.

So there they were, the three of them, two of which were running. Hanna was cradled in the zombie's arms, bleeding profusely from several large gashes on her side and hips. Her white skirt and sweater were going to need new patches, the blood leaving dark stains on the fabric as Hanna slowly bled out in the zombie's arms. She was light, he mused. Too light.

The third door on the right of the dead end alley banged open in the dead of night, the cool now cold, the calm now too still and too quiet. Nothing was right. Hanna was dying in the zombie's arms, they'd only just met, and nothing was right. The night wasn't what it had seemed and now their friendship was going to take that turn too because Hanna was going to die.

"Aw, fuck." The blond at the desk swore upon seeing them. "Back room." The order was curt, almost practiced, and the zombie mused how many times the man must've seen Hanna like this. "I don't care who th' fuck ya are 'n I don't care what th' fuck you got her inta, just lay her down 'n I'll get ta fixin' her."

Conrad watched them exit into the back room, staying behind for now. The zombie remained with the strange man, offering his help.

"You wanna help? You sure you wanna be in here, buddy? Hanna's got quite tha little secret." The man scowled when the zombie didn't make a move to leave. "Oh, fuck it, fine, get yer green-ass-shit hands over here, gotta hold her down anyways." The man proceeded in the quickest strip the zombie had ever seen, leaving Hanna in nothing but her underwear.

It was then that suddenly, the earlier musing made since. Hanna, under that skirt, was most certainly a boy. It was very, very obvious once the cloths were removed, and the zombie had to take a minute and glance Hanna over to make sure it was, in fact, the same person.

"Yeah, Hanna's a little odd, don't mind it. She's got 'er reasons."

\---  
The gashes were easy to stitch up. The skirt and the sweater, however, were harder. The zombie sat with Hanna in Worth's – Hanna had told them his name, and Worth had proceeded to get into a fight with Conrad, resulting in him getting punched out and Conrad finally accepting his newly acquired taste for blood – back room, Hanna's hands busy sewing a new patch onto the white skirt.

"Heh, I guess it's hard to keep me a secret, huh?" Hanna chuckled, not caring that her tights were ripped. "I just never thought being a boy was for me, you know? My parents named me Hanna, they might've known I was gonna end up like this. Who knows – hey, can you pass me those scissors? – they might've been psychic or something. Bet it's kinda hard to swallow, though, me being me and all."

"No, I don't think it is." The zombie handed Hanna the scissors, musing to himself and to her quietly. "You are who you want to be, and that's what matters, right?"

"Yeah, you're right." Hanna grinned, swinging her legs. "Just, let's not tell Connie, he doesn't need another reason to freak out for a while."

"Deal.


End file.
